


gay panic: the shoujo manga edition

by mudkip



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: Drabble, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-07-28
Packaged: 2020-06-28 02:58:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19803307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mudkip/pseuds/mudkip
Summary: Kiryu says it so guilelessly, Keito feels almost guilty. He digs his face deep into his hands. Thinks to himselfyou're incorrigible, thinksoh, I wish I were a cat, thinks -- blasphemes --god, take me now.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Discovery](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/498394) by montybyart. 



It's like a page out of his shoujo manga; the kind that Keito keeps in a box tucked in his closet. Each mint-condition volume carefully wrapped in their dust jackets, until Eichi spills them over his bedroom floor in search of a new way to annoy him. 

Kiryu sits by him, close enough that their knees press together; close enough that Keito imagines he can feel his body heat, suffusing through the fabric of their uniform's trousers. Light pours in through the window, streaking across the floor, framing Kiryu in a rectangle of light, his crimson hair a glowing torch in the evening sun. He cradles a small, squirming ball of fur; a mewling kitten, almost comically small in Kiryu’s large hands. The tableau they form is perfect. “The Portrait of a Young Man in Love”, Keito titles it, privately -- and then, Kiryu smiles, and his thoughts stutter to a halt.

It happens like in his favorite moments, the scenes where delicately-drawn flowers burst into the background. He can picture it: petals spilling out past the boundaries of the panel, as the smile blooms into Kiryu’s lips. The edges of his eyes crinkle, softening the set of his face. A seed of warmth buds in Keito’s stomach -- a quiet realization; a thunderous revelation, sprouting to life in his head. 

“What’s his name?” Kiryu asks. Blissfully, thankfully unaware of Keito’s ongoing crisis. 

“Keito,” Keito croaks, cobbling together a reply from the haze of petals and heat and alarm bells ringing in his brain. 

"Keito's very cute." 

Kiryu says it so guilelessly, Keito feels almost guilty. He digs his face deep into his hands. Thinks to himself _you're incorrigible_ , thinks _oh, I wish I were a cat_ , thinks -- blasphemes -- _god, take me now_. The cacophony of his thoughts still when he feels something ruffle through his hair; Kiryu’s calloused fingertips, tickling at his temple. It shocks him enough that he pries his face free of the magnetic force of his palms; snaps upright to look at Kiryu, eyes wide.

“Keito’s very cute,” Kiryu repeats. 

His hand hovers in the air between them, inches away from Keito’s forehead, reaching out almost close enough to touch; his cheeks are red, dappled by the light of the sun from the window. _Ah,_ Keito thinks. _Just like in my shoujo manga._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> entry for eso round 1, team keikuro; companion fic to a comic entered in the same round. thank you monty!!!!!
> 
> EDIT: [our entry for eso round 1 is now public!](https://esomain.dreamwidth.org/6317.html#cutid1)


	2. firsts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A series of vignettes, detailing some of the firsts after the confession. Written for Prompt #51 of the Enstars Shipping Olympics.

_i. kiss_

"Ah, dang."

"What's wrong?"

"I left my bottle at home, looks like. I'll have to grab a drink from a vending machine. Sorry, boss. I'll be back in a bit."

"Just that? You can just drink from -- uh."

"Boss?"

"Ahem. You can just drink from mine."

"You sure 'bout that? Thanks. Hold up, why are you blushing?"

"I'm not."

"Your face is red."

"I'm _not_ blushing."

"Wait. Is this an indirect kiss thing? You've been reading too much manga."

"I, no, it's, that's incorrect, it was an act of generosity, I'm performing it out of goodwill."

"Right, right."

" _Why are_ you _blushing_."

_ii. date_

They spend four hours at a museum, meandering their way through the exhibits. Hasumi has a map grasped in his hand -- a map he'd pulled out of his bag when they boarded the bus to the museum. It's all all meticulously marked out with notes, red marker scrawling out _the optimal path that will take them to all the exhibits with the least doubling back_ , or so Hasumi informed him, chest puffed out.

Hasumi talks non-stop for all four hours, rattling off a list of factoids as they pick their way around. Kuro would say he was surprised. Except, he isn't not really; he's always known that Hasumi had a healthy pair of lungs on him. He goes with impressed. It's almost like a lecture, one of those lengthy sermons that Hasumi is wont to give; but, Kuro finds himself listening, drawn in by the cadence of Hasumi's words. How he draws circles in the air with his finger, pointing at the exhibits as he speaks; how his tone rises when the topic captures his own interest; how his face lights up when Kuro prompts him for more information.

They find themselves sitting at the souvenir shop at the end of it, two cups of tea and shared cake between them. Kuro stretches his legs out discretely beneath the table, wiggles the ache out of his toes. His ankles bump against Hasumi's. Hasumi bumps back.

"You've never been here before?" Kuro asks. He cuts the cake in half, motioning for Hasumi to move his plate closer.

"No," Hasumi answers, nodding in thanks as Kuro slides his half of the cake onto his plate. "I've always wanted to come, but could never make the time to."

"Oh? You know a lot about the stuff here."

"I did some -- " _some_ , Kuro scoffs. Hasumi kicks at his heel. " -- _some_ prior reading before coming over. Knowing the context behind some of the art pieces is necessary for a fruitful experience here."

"All that effort, just for me?"

He'd meant it as a joke, something to tease Hasumi with. Something they'd share a wry grin, and maybe a laugh over. Instead, Hasumi looks away, inspecting the slice of cake in his plate with rapt fascination.

"Of course," he says. Takes a large bite of his cake, before Kuro can reply, cheeks ballooning as he chews furiously.

Kuro buys them matching keychains when they leave.

_iii. kiss (redux)_

Clack.

"Ow!"

_iv. homemade meal_

Kuro holds his hands while he's cutting the vegetables, his grip firm as he guides the knife onwards. He insists that it's a necessary step in correcting Keito's technique, but there is a twist to his lips that has Keito thinking that that isn't all that he's doing.

It helps, though, that he can feel Kuro's pulse against the back of his hands, thrumming too fast.

"Good job, boss. You might just be able to feed yourself, if you keep this up," Kuro says, pulling away. The temptation to lean back, to chase his retreating warmth is formidable challenge to his years of ascetic training. He narrowly succeeds. 

"I'm nowhere near your level of skill, but I'm not _that_ terrible."

There must be something humorous in that statement, because Kuro laughs, and bumps his shoulder into Keito, a line of warmth all the way down to his wrist. Keito leans in, and catalogues the vegetables they've diced: the garlic, and onion, and --

"Isn't that far too much chili?"

Kuro tips the bowl gingerly with a finger, peering at its contents. "Nah. You like it this spicy, don't you?"

"I do, but that's not the issue here. What about you?" He doesn't want to move away, not yet; he settles for turning his head to his right, and meeting Kuro's eyes. "We made two portions. I won't have you abandoning me to take them on alone."

"It's not gonna be anything like that, Hasumi," Kuro says, placating. "I was just thinking about raising my spice tolerance, is all."

He trails off, scratching under his chin. "You know that ramen place we checked out last time? There's, uh, a spicy ramen pair challenge. I thought, you know, that you'd like to try it out. Together. With me."

His fingers slip on the bowl, plunging dangerously close to the sliced chili. Keito forward, and snatches Kuro's hand up in his.

"If," Keito answers, words deliberately weighed and measured, "we are taking that challenge, I intend to win. We'll work you up to it. I'll come up with a plan."

Kuro grins, beatific and relieved. It's infectious.

"I'm sure you will, boss. You'll have to let me go, though. I can't do any cooking with you holding my hand like this."

Keito flips his hand over, twining their fingers together.

"I'm sure you can work with the challenge. Take it as training."

_v. kiss (for real, this time)_

"Let's try not to smash faces, this time."

"Don't be vulgar."

"I'm not sure what else can describe what we did the last time, Keito. My gums bled."

"Kuro. Read the mood."

"Haha, sorry. I'm just nervous."

"We can take it slow. There's no reason why we should do it now, if you're uncomfortable. We can wait for a better time, when we're both a little more confident -- "

"Keito, the _mood_."

"How about you shut me up, then?"

"... Did you get that line from a manga?"

"... Yes."

"Kinda hot."

" _Kuro,_ "

Kuro shuts him up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'd originally meant for this to be a dialogue-only fic, but some details ended up worming their way in because my Self-Control Very Bad. the bits where kuro teases keito are entirely self-indulgent, because those moments when kuro does so in canon are. very great.
> 
> i love domestic first-times, and this prompt was a delight to write! i only hope that it was just as fun to read. if the requester happens to be reading this: thank you for the ideas!


End file.
